


and the world spins on

by Andromicat



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Disaster, Dramatic, Gen, Help, Hurt No Comfort, Ominous, Pain, What Was I Thinking, admin!dream, angsty, bye, cut me some slack i haven’t written in weeks, god!dream, have fun, i feel pain, i think i’m done, impending doom, i’m running out of tag ideas can you tell, might be a short series idk, oh no, ok, overly poetic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:47:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27038941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andromicat/pseuds/Andromicat
Summary: From broken pieces deep in restless oblivion, his world awakened. Every little piece connected, intertwined. They grew, they flourished, until they shaped somethingalive, somethingbeautiful.Sometimes, when the axis wobbles and unnatural unrest broils beneath the surface, when the sparks of conflict emerge, he steps forward. With his closest followers behind him, he tries his very best to keep the balance in his world. He makes a change, a change he hopes will lead his world into brighter days.He cannot say that he always makes the right choices, but at least hetries.No—he has not.This time, he has not made the right choice.
Relationships: Gen fic - Relationship, None
Kudos: 44





	and the world spins on

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, I jumped on the bandwagon and wrote a dream smp fanfic. It’s not much, but here you go, lol. I might write a part 2 after everything goes down on Friday, depending on what happens. Mayyybe it'll be longer.
> 
> why didn’t i beta this
> 
> _have fun i guess_

From broken pieces deep in restless oblivion, his world awakened _._ Every little piece connected, intertwined. They grew, they flourished, until they shaped something _alive_ , something _beautiful_.

For the most part, he is content to simply watch. From afar, he gazes upon his little world, his beautiful creation. Vast forests of pine and oak, rolling fields of grass, the cerulean expanses of ocean. The harsh glare of daylight in the sky, the blazing hues of dawn, coloring his earth in a vibrant glow. 

Together, they have come so far. From insignificant fragments came colors, and life, and joy.

He has watched people come and go here, blink in and out. Era upon era, wave upon wave, they set foot on his land and they shape it anew. They change, they create, they destroy. And he watches it happen at a distance, watches the very face of his land change form. 

He watches power change hands. Eras and empires rise and fall. Such is the nature of society—castles of sand, they begin, build themselves up. But as everything does, soon it all begins to crumble. Water laps at its roots, until the cracks begin to form, and one day, the very foundation shatters.

Humanity is so, so fragile. And yet it is beautiful. What they create, what they build, astounds him.

Sometimes, he visits his world. He marvels at the wonders his people create. He frowns upon the scars they have left behind. He speaks to them, him with his centuries of knowledge, with the greatest humanity he can muster. 

Perhaps he wishes, sometimes, that he could borrow that simplicity, that _humanity_ that they did. Just once, he wants to live that mayfly existence, to experience what it is like to live _so much_ in years that seem almost like a blink to him.

Sometimes, when the axis wobbles and unnatural unrest broils beneath the surface, when the sparks of conflict emerge, he steps forward. With his closest followers behind him, he tries his very best to keep the balance in his world. He makes a change, a change he hopes will lead his world into brighter days.

He cannot say that he always makes the right choices, but at least he _tries._

No—he has not. 

This time, he has not made the right choice.

So when the sky crumbles, when the world burns at his feet and it is _his own fault_ , what will he do? When the ashes scatter like their broken freedom, when poisoned tyranny takes hold and the very foundations of his world fall apart, will he speak? Will he stand against the rising tide, quench the trembling flames that engulf his wilting creation?

No. It is then that he is powerless.

When the world needs him most, he can do nothing but watch. 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't mind me, just philosophical rambling disguised as a minific. LOL
> 
> Man, this AU sounds _interesting_ to say the least if you only look at the tags. God!Dream or something?? But it was just a concept that I wanted to explore—I thought of it because of something that happened on the SMP and ran with it.  
> Said event? Dream meeting Technoblade on the mountain and helping him from the shadows. In that scene (especially in his whispers to Techno), he plays a very mysterious and faraway character—almost as if he’s kinda the ruler or the god of the SMP (and he technically is in multiple ways, presumably being the owner of the server and the deity of Church Prime).  
> It was interesting and a path I wanted to follow. :3
> 
> I love to hear feedback or comments in general, so be sure to leave a comment and a kudo if you liked it! Thanks!
> 
> Oh, and if you want to talk to me or see what I’m doing or something, my twitter is @andromicat (yep, the same as my ao3 user). Fair warning, I’m pretty awkward and so are my tweets. Also: please only interact/follow if you’re also part of the MCYT fandom (or if you dabble in it), LOL. pls no randoms


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